The Bells

This one is a little strange, but I thought I'd share it anyway. 

 

 

 

The Bells

By, Ashton Macaulay

 

 

 

     “Why?”

     “It cannot be done?”

     “What if it could?”

     “Then it shouldn’t be.”

     “But it can be.”

     “The thing you talk about is not only dangerous, but irresponsible. Can you imagine what this would do to society? No one could handle something of this magnitude. No, I suggest you bury it, and never speak of it to anyone ever again. There are some things that humanity just isn’t ready for.”

     “But it’s progress.”

     “Progress be damned. We’ve barely got a handle on the progress we’ve made so far. Any further and we’re bound to fall over the edge and into collapse.”

     “This is my life’s work.”

 

I am awakened as always at the exact same time: 3:53AM. There is nothing that vexes me more than the specificity of this time, but for better or for worse that’s what it is. The apartment is dark, I am alone. The watch on my wrist counts slowly down from two minutes, its green light the only glimmer of hope in a world otherwise darkened. Will they come again when it reaches zero, or will it have been the last night of my torment. I cannot be sure until the hour is up.

 

My coffee table is oblong, it reminds me of Kepler’s orbits, and staring at it by the dim light of my watch brings no comfort. It is the only thing that has remained constant through the years while everything else changes around me. I can never stay in one place for long, I find that task to be the one that is too difficult to complete. No, I fear I am to die alone, staring at this table, with no one to talk to but the scraps of paper I leave on me. One minute left now.

 

Outside the window it is dark. The clock ticks from the corner of the room, heavier with each passing second. I can feel the surface of my skin begin to vibrate as I shiver with the anticipation of what’s to come. This will be three hundred nights of the madness. I should have never gone to work that day. My bed had been warm and inviting, but the call of promise and innovation led me out into the world. Changes were to be made and the very fabric of my existence rested on me being a part of them. Thirty seconds now.

When all else fails there will always be the sonorous tones of the empty space. The complete absence of sound is something that I will never achieve, and at least there is that, for in absolute silence lies only insanity. Dark thoughts work their way into my head, but I brush them aside. There isn’t much time for that now. Perhaps this will be the last time after all. I fear that my writing will become unintelligible as the pen shakes more violently in my hand with each passing moment. One more boom of the violent clock hand strikes. My time is up.

 

“He’s not going to wake up.”

“But what if he did? What would it mean?”

            “It doesn’t matter what it means because it’s not going to happen. Don’t waste your time with things that will never come to fruition.”

             “If he wakes up it would unmake everything that we know to be true. That would re-write the science textbooks, change the minds of the world. The threshold stands right before us, all we have to do is to make the leap and wake him up.”

 

Their chiming is incessant. Always with the crash of the hour hand does their music come, never ceasing, paying no heed to the world around them. Absolute darkness gathers in pockets around the room and I stare at the coffee table, covering my ears. It does no good; I can hear them as if they are in my head. I try to shut my eyes but the table remains in front of me as if they were open. “WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME?!” I yell to the empty room, but it is drowned out by the chiming of the bells. They will be gone soon. I try to calm myself with the notion, but I know that it is not true. Each time they visit feels like an eternity.

The coffee table is oblong. It has always been that way. It is the only thing that remains constant…

 

     “I’ve done it!”

     “Why have you done it?! Don’t you understand what this means?”

     “We are no longer doomed to repeat ourselves, that’s what it means.”

     “Are you so short sighted as to truly believe that?”

     “Think of all that we can learn from him!”

 

It is 3:53AM; I have woken from a dead sleep for the first time this evening. There are approximately seven minutes before they will make their appearance again. The silence, while not complete is nerve wracking. My watch begins to count down as it often does. There are no lights on it, only analogue hands, attached to miniscule gears, churning away the minutes in air. It’s muted tick echoes throughout the room, filling the empty space.

The coffee table is oblong, as it has always been, and as it will always remain. On this night there is no window, only a wall. I do not wish to know where I will end up tomorrow. In fact, I don’t fancy that there will be a tomorrow. Control brings with it sanity, and that is one of the many things that I have lost. Tonight will be the last night that they visit. It is convenient that the kitchen in this room possesses knives, freshly sharpened. Their cool steel reflects what little ambient light there is.

I have lost everything. They will not take from me this final choice. In the end there is but one thing to do. Five minutes remain.

I fear once more that my writing will become unintelligible, as I have cut too deep in my wrist. I can only hope that my final moments will not be forgotten as I was. Three minutes remain.

The room spins around me in an unfamiliar fashion. Numb hands creep over my body, stealing away the sense of feeling. Dark tunnels grow around the edges of my vision. One minute remains.

 

     “You’ve killed him.”

     “I had no idea!”

     “Of course you did, I warned you. This is out of my hands now.”

     “Please, don’t take the machine.”

     “That machine should never have been built, and as far as the public is concerned it never was. In fact, you never worked here, you developed a filthy habit and it claimed your life.”

     “Please don’t!”

     “I told you to be careful. Have a seat.”

     “People need to know about this!”

 

 

     “He said hello! We have to respond.”

     “No we don’t. For all we know our words could be unintelligible garbage to him.”

     “He said hello.”

     “I don’t care what he said. This isn’t right Dr. Allen.”

     “I’m just going to send him one thing.”

     “It’s 3:53 in the damn morning. How do you know he won’t be asleep?”

     “Only one way to find out…”